


Five Very Good Reasons to Say a Very Bad Word (And One Entirely Accurate One)

by JessaLRynn



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Humor, Jack being Jack, M/M, Multi, Other, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 19:34:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6022234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessaLRynn/pseuds/JessaLRynn





	1. Reason 1: Because He Had It Coming

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Editrx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Editrx/gifts).



The Doctor sighed, putting on a face Rose remembered from Platform One, when he took her to a party at the end of the world. He seemed then, and now, to be apologizing for her barbarian ways or something, and Rose had the overwhelming urge to stomp on his foot. Hard.

Unfortunately, the aliens he was talking to looked like they escaped from Star Wars, specifically the Jabba's Palace sequence, and they were twice her size and almost as gross as they were scary. Therefore, Rose didn't dare put on a show of defiance when the Doctor was, apparently, pretending to hold her by a leash. Besides, there just wasn't time to get caught up in something, not when Jack was in danger.

"She's a pet," the Time Lord was explaining. He wasn't going to get any sugar in his tea for a month, no matter how he begged. "She's well behaved for a human, really," he added quite cheerfully. Make that two months. "Had her shots, and most of her teeth are good." Make that EVER. With a proud and harried sort of glee, he finished, "She does tricks. Speak, Rose."

And, because Rose knew that the Doctor could understand her, and that the TARDIS would make sure the aliens did not, she spoke very, very sweetly, with faked but perfect diction. "Fuck you," she said, as politely as any diplomat had ever thanked his host, "fuck you sideways."


	2. Reason 2: As an Indicator of Surprise

"Are you sure this is the right way?" Rose asked glumly, peering down a dark and rather slimy-looking alley.

"Are you sure you really want to find Jack?" the Doctor shot back, glowering intently at the sonic screwdriver as if it would explain itself at any moment.

It was possible she would live to regret this - she had so far, after all, with the pig alien things and the Doctor laughing at her instead of being insulted like he should've been - but she supposed it would be well out of character for her to give up now.

The very next time Jack decided to pick the place they'd go, though, Rose was going to veto him for the Victorian Period. He'd be dead in a day with all the modesty and repression, so she wouldn't make them stay long, but really. He'd gotten them in a bar fight on Rusta IV, talked to the wrong person on Gertrax IX and been made Emperor, and in 35th century Earth, he'd been chased by a horde of shrieking females who had, apparently, wanted his pants. Then here, he'd gotten captured only twenty minutes after arriving, and he'd said this place would be perfectly safe.

Rose grumbled some words - even she wasn't sure what they were - and headed warily into the shadows. It was an obstacle course almost immediately, reminding Rose a bit of the area behind the pub back in London, only with more unidentifiable green goo and less broken glass. Here, the containers were something that seemed to be disintegrating, and the green goo was much more vividly disgusting than any she'd ever seen on human Earth.

She almost stepped in the third something she would have sworn was a used nappy, nearly lost her footing, and caught herself quickly on the wall. Her hand, of course, had to come into contact with the nastiest bit of wall available, which Rose would have thought was impressive if she hadn't been so busy trying not to throw up. "God, what is this stuff?" she demanded, trying to shake something that felt a lot like snot off her hand and also force herself not to respond to instinct and rub it off on her clothes. "Doctor?!"

"What?" he said, and Rose realized he hadn't even come into the alley at all.

"What are you doing?" she demanded.

"Recalculating," he said, and he almost sounded like a sci-fi show's computer.

"Gimme your handkerchief," she ordered, and stomped carefully toward him.

"What?" he asked.

"Handkerchief!" Rose insisted. After a moment of no acknowledgement, she allowed a tiny, "Please?" because she was desperate and because if he did hand it over, she'd be recognizably grateful.

"Hm. All right," he said as she finally reached him, and absently handed her a piece of string.

Rose sighed. "This isn't gonna work," she said, and she tried to sound reasonable, really she did.

"No need to get snarky," the Doctor complained in his happy-go-lucky tone that Rose knew she shouldn't let him get away with (and also knew she always would). Still thoroughly distracted, he added, "Just. Another. Mo." The screwdriver made a strange noise, one of very few besides whirring that Rose had ever heard it make, and then it whirred out a quick something.

The Doctor read it, then looked up at her. Rose knew immediately, from the sheepish expression, that she wasn't going to like it. "We don't have to go that way at all," he said.

Rose sighed, resigned. "Why'm I not surprised?" she wondered aloud. "Can I have your handkerchief now?"

"When did you ask for my handkerchief?" the Doctor wanted to know. "And why is your hand turning orange?"

Rose stared. "What the fuck is this stuff?!" she shrieked.


	3. Reason 3: Because Sometimes, There Really is No Better Description

Rose muttered today's curse as she kicked the side of the building. "That your new word, then?" the Doctor asked, almost mildly, as he investigated the wall she'd just kicked. Rose was annoyed enough to consider that he was seeing if she'd damaged it. She thought about kicking him.

This was Jack's fault, she reminded herself. He'd insisted on Fukoria for the part he'd needed for his perpetually broken Vortex Manipulator. Then he'd made a slew of jokes about the name, and gotten the word stuck in Rose's head, and then they'd actually arrived here. The Doctor had spotted some "friends" - the slimy-pig-slug aliens - and sent Rose away with Jack, telling the ex-Time Agent to keep her safe.

Only, it'd turned out that Jack couldn't even keep himself safe. Some guy called Pherdis had turned up, looking like he'd ordered hot buttered Harkness on toast, and gotten it served just right, with a free side of bonus strawberries. Rose couldn't forget the look on Jack's face as they'd led him away - the kind of horror Jack only got when reminded of his Time Agent past - and she'd run straight to the Doctor, which was why he'd had to defend her to the pig-slug aliens.

It was only the fact that she loved them both so much (though in entirely different ways, really) that she hadn't decided to call this whole thing off, go back to the TARDIS for chocolate cookie ice cream, and let them find each other or something. Unfortunately perhaps, for her anyway, she loved them both, and it was so complicated.

The Doctor was looking at her as if she'd just dribbled on her shirt, which meant he'd probably asked her a question while she was mentally catching up, and now her IQ was being docked again in that vast Time Lord summation of his. She wondered if he had her in negative numbers yet. She considered telling him off good and proper, but no. This was all Jack's fault.

"Fucking Jack fucking Harkness and his fucking bad fucking ideas," Rose grumbled.

"Agreed," the Doctor allowed. "Mind, most of his ideas have that in 'em, really."

Even the Doctor might not have ever said a truer word. It wasn't fair, really, for Jack to give her all these lovely suggestions on how to seduce the Doctor while the Time Lord remained utterly oblivious. And if this was one of Jack's plots, so help her... "He didn't say that when he decided to come here, though," Rose pointed out. Then, determined to change the subject, she grabbed onto the pipe clinging to the side of the old building. "And I suppose the drainpipe's the only way in?"

"That or crawling through the sewers," the Doctor admitted with quite a bit more cheer than was necessary for the situation. In fact, it was more cheer than was necessary for going to a funfair, never mind this.

"Give us a leg up," she said.

He obliged without comment while Rose had to bite back the urge to let go the drainpipe and wrap her leg around the Time Lord instead. She could climb him, would bet he had a lovely pole, nice and thick and... The Doctor snickered at something Rose couldn't see, and she was yanked, cruelly, from her beautiful fantasy. She handed herself up another foot, and wondered if the Doctor would have any trouble coming up himself.

"I think you're enjoying this," Rose complained.

"What's to enjoy?" the Doctor asked, probably too innocently. Rose turned and looked down at him with narrowed eyes, and almost, almost cheered herself up by imagining he was looking at her bum.


	4. Reason 4: As an Expostulation of Disgust

"And I just know that only you can save my sweet baby girl!"

Rose gritted her teeth and tried to ignore the brightly sparkling little voice coming from the Doctor's corner of the extremely crowded room. She focused on Jack, instead. He was dressed like a Vegas showgirl. Well, dressed was really not the right word. He had the hat, certainly, a towering confection of feathers and sparkling fluff and more fake jewels than her mum's entire circle of friends put together. He had on some shiny gold pants, with a lurid green signature sewn someplace she kept trying not to look. That was it, unless you counted the bite marks on his shoulder, and Rose just couldn't find it in her to do that.

"I hate you so bad right now," she said pleasantly.

Jack grinned. "We only hate those we envy," he decided. "You should try being more like me!"

"You will save her, won't you?" Rose heard the simpering and tried to ignore it.

"Yeah, 'cuz I always wanted a reputation when I grew up," she agreed with Jack sarcastically. "What d'ya think? Think the Doctor will hold my hand while I get 'Space Slut' tattooed to my left buttock?"

"Think he's a bit busy at the moment," Jack teased. "Want me to hold your hand for you, Rosie?"

"I'm going to let him throw you out the airlock next time," Rose decided. "I'll even push the button."

Jack waved the very idea away with a flourish of his hand, somehow managing to make his hat bob majestically without spilling it even a little. It wasn't even remotely fair that he always looked good in any ridiculous thing. Somewhat more seriously, he added, "You could stay and party with us, Rose. Live a little."

She shook her head. "Thanks, but no thanks. I need to go talk the Doctor out of leaving you here."

"He looks too busy to leave me here," Jack joked, glancing over at the Grinch-green alien who was stroking the Doctor's leather clad arm in a way that made Rose want to break things. She must have given some visible sign of her agitation because Jack moved to block her view. "Tell him it's just for a day or so. I'd leave now, but Pherdis is having an orgy later, and it'll probably go all wrong without me."

"Gotta play to your strengths," Rose agreed dryly.

Jack grinned like the big, crazy kid he really was. "Knew you'd understand," he said cheerfully. He pecked her quickly on the cheek, and how he did that without giving her a mouth full of feathers and fluff, she'd never know, and then he dove into the crowd of admirers she'd dragged him out of when they'd snuck in here.

Really, they should've just used the front door. No one would have even remotely noticed one more alien at this complete chaos of a party. But they'd thought Jack was in danger.

Or, rather, Rose had thought Jack was in danger. The Doctor, who had gotten his bum pinched no less than three times since they'd climbed in Jack's window only to be hit in the face by an extremely raucous party, was not speaking to her at the moment as a result. Instead, he was lurking like a brooding avatar in the only corner not occupied by a shagging couple - or trio - or group, actually - and he was being accosted by a wench who reminded Rose of the green animal women on the original Star Trek. Her boobs were impressive, Rose would've admitted that, except this wasn't the only green-eyed monster Rose was trying to keep a handle on.

"I'll kill him," Rose grumbled as the Doctor very nearly got a face full. She wasn't even sure who she was threatening, Jack, their "host", the Time Lord, someone.

"She's up there," the lime tart pointed, gesturing toward the second level of this glorified bordello, where the more "private" rooms were located. Rose had to hand it to the Doctor; he actually managed to follow the pointing, instead of the flexing and the animated bouncing so near his face.

Rose followed with her eyes and saw a tiny, pale-pink, kitten-like creature sitting on the outside of the railing, halfway up the stairs, huddled out of the way, and wailing pitifully. "Oh, for fuck's sake!" she snapped, charged up the stairs, snatched the cat, and brought it down. She had no idea how fast she moved, nor that all eyes in the room had turned to her. "D'ya mind!" she snarled, stuffing the little fluffball at its appropriately described mistress. She then grabbed the Doctor's leather-clad arm and dragged him toward the door. "Honestly," she grumbled. "You blokes're all the same, aren't you?"

The Doctor was, apparently, too busy laughing at her to say anything more about it.


	5. Reason 5: For That Time You Have to Call Him On It

"You're completely amazing, Rose Tyler," the Doctor said, chuckling enough while he talked that Rose was convinced he was picking on her.

"What's that s'posed to mean?" she grumbled. The Doctor kicked a pebble down the empty street, his eyes on his feet more than on Rose. The frustration was getting to her, she realized, if just the fact that he wasn't looking at her was bothering her.

"You don't even know, of course, but I s'pose it's just as well you didn't find out." He was smirking. Rose was absolutely certain of that, and the shadow cast by a streetlight as she peeked at him solidified her conviction.

"Still not following you." The Doctor was not as funny as he thought he was, even if he was considerably hotter.

"You never touch a Felsin symbiont."

Rose had only just noticed that her fingers were cold, so she stuck one hand into the Doctor's coat pocket. "What's that when it's home?" she asked, still not sure what he was up to.

"That adorable little monster you picked up?" he reminded. "It's a Felsin symbiont, and it's not ta be handled, unless you wanna wind up wrapped 'round the person who's bound to it."

"No idea what you're on about," Rose said, frowning as she tried to sense anything weird going on inside her. Nothing felt the slightest bit different, not really.

The Doctor led her into some sort of alcove or doorway, and Rose shivered a little as another delicious little fantasy skittered across her thoughts. It had nothing whatever to do with the Felsin thing, or any alien at all, except the one who was studying her with intense blue eyes in the half-shadowed corner. "Don't fancy going back for a quickie?" he wondered.

"Not with nothing in that room," Rose said, vaguely disgusted by the thought. "I don't think there're enough shots in the world."

There was a blue-tipped whir, and the Doctor considered the screwdriver for a moment before giving Rose a shrug and another visual one-over. "Feeling a little drunk, maybe? A bit... uninhibited?"

"Jack was uninhibited, Doctor," Rose said. "All of Jack's friends, too, if it comes to it. Me, I don't even feel curious about that alien." She had picked her words carefully there, trying to give him a hint, direct his thoughts in the same way hers were always turning: toward him and her together on any flight leaving for ecstasy.

"Really," he said, and Rose couldn't tell if he was still grinning or not. However, she was starting to suspect he was not being strictly level with her. "Nothing?"

"No," Rose said. "Why? I'm not having that. I dunno where it's been."

The Doctor chuckled. "Never studied Felsin symbionts meself," he said. "Most reports say they dose you with the owner's sex pheromones, though some claim it's an amplified aphrodisiac. You don't have anything like that in your system, not according to the screwdriver, which makes no sense."

"Right," Rose said sarcastically, shaking her head and snickering. "So you picked one up before, then?" She poked his arm playfully.

The Doctor poked her back on the nose, eyes dancing in the pale light. "Had a friend did once. Hilarious at the time, really."

"Maybe humans are immune?" Rose offered, and slipped her hand under the Doctor's coat. The flirting was going to get out of hand any day now, she was sure of that, but how could she resist pushing when he was so close?

"Not s'posed to be. S'posed to be one of the most susceptible." He shrugged. "Guess it's another space legend for the rubbish bin."

"There's really stories?" Rose asked, because she was still almost convinced he was teasing her.

He nodded, and he really looked sort of serious. "Really are. Only people said to be immune are ones who're completely committed to someone else."

Rose thought of holding hands and the turning of the world beneath her feet, thought about getting chips after the end of the world. "You're stuck with me," she'd said, and at the time, maybe even she didn't really understand how much she'd meant that, or for how long. She smiled. "That explains it," she said, looking deeply into his eyes, willing him silently to understand what she meant. Her hands caught his as his eyes burned in the night, their gazes as locked as Rose's future was locked to his, as Rose's love was bound to him, forever.

The moment held for just a second too long for them, just long enough that was Rose was sure he understood her, that for once, he was there with her, exactly, in the moment and in complete harmony. They both smiled, and his was so shy that she knew, and all her doubts were gone. She smiled wider, tongue in her teeth, letting her love for him gleam in her eyes.

He was grinning at her, then, a bright, beautiful, world-saving grin. This was his way to remind her of all those times he told her not to wander off, not to touch things, and so forth. She laughed in his face as they considered each other, getting so close she could feel the warmth of his body through her clothes. "You know what, Doctor?" Rose purred, playfully, "I think this is not true."

"Oh?" said the Doctor, and he drew impossibly closer, filling all of her senses with the cool splendor of his exotic, familiar presence. "You're sure?"

"Yes." Decisively, she looked up into those fathomless eyes, fascinated by the bright sparkle of that endless blue. It was now. Right here, right now, and this was them. "I think, Doctor, that you are fucking with me."

The Doctor swallowed - Rose watched his adam's apple, because she was contemplating biting it. His eyes batted closed, and he took a breath. When he opened his eyes again, there was very little blue left, a thin ring of ice around a deep well of desire. "Not yet, Rose Tyler," he said, and his voice was as dark as her fantasies had ever allowed, "but I'm gonna be."


	6. One Entirely Accurate One: For the Use of Carnal Knowledge

Rose could never have said which of them started the kissing. It was so natural, moving together, finding their places, her hands speared into his short cropped hair, his gripping her waist as if he couldn't hold her close enough. It was like running together, Rose thought, this kiss, filled with passion and joy and so much wonder, his and hers, as they learned each other in taste like they knew each other hand in hand.

By the time they broke the kiss, Rose was breathless, her Doctor trembling and gasping in her arms. She had the vague, satisfied thought that she'd made him forget his respiratory bypass and then, his head on her shoulder, he licked a line up her neck to her ear. Rose let her head drop back, mindful of the facade behind her, but only just. It was so good, so right, and he was melting into her, beautiful in the shadows.

His second kiss owned her, powerful and heady, his tongue against hers an erotic mimic of their bodies easing into the dance. Rose would never know which of them pushed the Doctor's jacket out of the way, but she undid his belt because the buckle was digging uncomfortably into her belly. And, of course, other things.

"TARDIS. Now," he mumbled against her ear, and then nuzzled a spot behind it with his nose.

Rose wasn't consciously aware of making any decisions, but she was aware of slipping one hand into the back of his jeans, reaching down to cup his bum, bring him closer. He ground himself against her, and Rose had to work to stifle the groan of satisfaction at the press of his erection.

Then, the Doctor kissed her again, kissed her sweet and fierce, and Rose no longer cared about anything but how close they were now, how they still weren't close enough. She wrapped her leg around him, too, and his hand caught her thigh to support her and bring her nearer. Her back was against the alcove wall, and the only thing she thought about that was leverage. Unsteadiness brought her foot back to the ground eventually, but only sometime after Rose remembered she couldn't fly.

The Doctor's hand was up her top, chilly fingers finding her breast and pinching, plucking, taunting first one nipple, then the other. Rose moaned and dug her fingernails into his arse, tugging at his lip with her teeth. He responded to her, like every wish, better than any dream. Her fingers, reluctant and anticipating at once, worked a path between them, tracing the straining buttons of his jeans, reveling in what they found there. She pressed her palm against him and the Doctor pushed back, and Rose couldn't make up her mind which filthy thing she wanted to do to him first.

When his lips dropped to her throat again, Rose decided her top was in their way. The Doctor backed away from her far enough to help her when she started pushing at it, tugging on it. He shoved the shirt onto a handy nearby windowsill, and seemed to immediately forget about it, fingers and kisses turning to her bra and fiddling with the clasp.

Rose took the opportunity to pop open one of the buttons at the Doctor's fly, then another. He froze for a second, then hissed when her hands traced the line along his hips where the jeans usually settled. Taut muscles bunched beneath her wandering fingertips, a gasping woosh of hot breath circled her throat.

"Rose," he whispered. "Gods, Rose." He swore a jangling, alien oath, and then he slipped his hand inside her jeans. Rose whimpered and the Doctor gave a strangled moan when his fingers found her dripping center. "So wet," he mumbled, his voice thick and full of sin. "My precious girl, so wet for me."

She scrabbled her free hand at his shoulder to get some kind of purchase, her body so willing to climb up and ride him to heaven. His fingers played merry hell with the quivering bud of her clit, making it impossible to think and hard to stand. She wanted to fuck him, right there, where they stood, and only a moment did she hesitate to tell him.

He let go of her entirely to work at her jeans with anxious, fumbling fingers. His words were alien to her, and she didn't know why, only that it didn't matter nearly as much as he did. Then her jeans were down around her knees and those fingers were suddenly dexterous again, playing her body like a symphony. "Fuck me, Doctor," she pleaded, ordered, begged. "Oh, my Doctor, fuck me now."

Her words became a litany until he slipped a finger inside her, and then they rose to a scream. He put his hand over her mouth and shook his head, blue eyes dancing as he watched her with something dark and gorgeous in his expression. Rose wanted all of it, the light and the dark and the running and the Doctor. As he switched to a single finger over her lips, she licked it, then sucked it into her mouth, watching him with eyes that felt all hazy with lust and hope.

"Oh, fuck," he said, and Rose grinned their triumph. He wrestled with his jeans a moment, and then pressed her against the wall, a hand under her bum and the other holding his cock. He teased her clit with the glistening tip and her vision whited out at the edges. Rose tilted her hips, a little less baffled and much less concerned than she should be at how this angle was even going to work.

He slipped into her easily, though, she was so wet for him. It might have been an insane idea, but she was so close to the edge this was all she was going to need this time, just him inside her, the slow grind of the base of his cock against her clit more than enough to carry her on. She bit her lip over the urge to scream, and the Doctor nodded, his face strained, as he rocked into her body so very slowly, his lip also caught between his teeth.

She wanted to wrap her trapped legs around him, and resolved to herself that she would the very next time she had him. She told him what was on her mind in a dirty little whisper, and he gasped and pressed his lips against hers, his kiss fierce and almost desperate.

When they broke apart to snatch wildly at the air, any need for quiet was forgotten. The sounds Rose made, tiny stifled cries of delight, echoed and blended with the Doctor's deep, encouraging groans, filling their hiding place with a chorus of pleasure. "Fuck me," she whispered again, her head back against the alcove wall, her fingers curled into claws clutching at his bum. "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me..."

"Yes Rose," he answered her, "yes, yes..." It rose to a hoarse cry, but it wasn't loud enough to drown out her begging oath as it climbed with her pleasure into a scream.

Rose's orgasm broke like a summer storm, fierce and sudden and torrential, and she clung to her Doctor to bring them through, crying words she would never dare to say into his shoulder as he held her tight. He reached the top right after her, a strangled prayer of her name alone his only word as they tumbled from the heights together.

Spent and shaking, Rose sagged against the alcove wall. An emotional wave every bit as strong as the physical one crashed over her, and she burst into tears and laughter at once. Incredulous blue eyes blinked at her, and Rose flung her arms around the Doctor's neck, so in love with him for everything about him in this moment that she thought she could recharge the TARDIS herself.

"You're completely mad," the Doctor mumbled in her hair.

"You love it," she teased.

He kissed the tip of her nose. "Always," he said, and Rose saw promises in his eyes, promises she would never ask for, but just as surely would never doubt, not so long as he was her Doctor and she was his Rose.

"Why'd we wait so long?" she wondered as they both tried to manage some semblance of order in their clothes.

"You never said, before," he pointed out accurately, but Rose knew from the way his eyes were dancing with wicked mirth that he was teasing her.

"So this is my fault?" she answered, finding her bra but deciding against the dirty t-shirt in the window ledge.

He laughed and wrapped his leather coat around her. "No, I distinctly remember we were gonna blame Jack."

They joined hands and headed home, and then Rose sighed as she realized something. "We can't blame Jack," she said. "'Cuz then he'll want credit and that's not happening."

"Good point," the Doctor said. "So what'd'you think then?"

"Blame the whole fucking situation," she decided, and she grinned wickedly. The Doctor laughed and even the pig slug aliens didn't seem so bad anymore. Or any of the fucking things that happened that day.


End file.
